Restored Chapter I
by Esmeralda
*Twist*
*Turn*
*Spin*
*Twist*
Obi-Wan spiralled through the air effortlessly. Each time he landed his feet barely grazed the floor before he launched himself upwards again, somersaulting backwards and forwards in a dizzying display of skill. The folds of his tunic fluttered open, exposing glistening skin slick with sweat. Obi-Wan's hair was dark with it, soft spikes plastered against his head. His braid's slender, whipcord length lashed back and forth like the tail of an angry cat.
At a glance, he was just another Padawan taking advantage of the exercise room's early morning quiet. A handful of others had risen with the dawn to practice in the large echoing chamber. Except Obi-Wan had not arrived at first light, and a closer examination revealed the unhealthy pallor of his skin and the wild glassy look in his eyes. Slender muscles were trembling with effort, pushed far beyond their current limits. Obi- Wan landed badly from one tumble, regained his balance - just - and cursed loudly, drawing startled glances from the room's other occupants.
Obi-Wan was oblivious to their unease. Storming over to a wall cabinet he threw open the doors and stared at the contents. Several of the other Padawans began to whisper nervously amongst themselves. The use of the equipment stored in the cabinet was not 'expressly' forbidden, but certain items were only for the use of senior Knights and Masters. 'Certain items' which included the matching pair of duelling sabers that Obi-Wan now lifted out of the case. Padawans exchanged shocked, unhappy looks.
Ignoring their scrutiny, the young man walked back into the centre of the exercise ring. He felt the balance of each saber in his hand before lighting them and taking a fighting stance. Then he began again...
*Twist*
*Turn*
*Spin*
*Twist*
This time the twin blades soared with him, graceful arcs of blue fire slicing through the air. Open mouthed, the Padawans shuffled forward until they formed a silent, awestruck circle around him.
The silence was broken by a soft, sizzling hiss; a tiny curl of smoke drifted upward and with it the stench of charred cloth and burnt flesh. One of the Padawans turned away with a grimace, but Obi-Wan seemed totally unaware of the smoldering slash across his arm.
"You'd better fetch Master Jinn," an older Padawan whispered to one of the youngest - a tiny Thracian. She nodded, sparing one last wild-eyed glance at Obi-Wan before turning and running from the room.
Hurtling down the empty corridors, the Thracian was little more than a blur of cream tunic and white fur. She skidded to a halt beside Master Jinn's quarters. After several anxious moments, when no-one answered her repeated calls, she risked using a slight touch of the Force to probe the room. She hit the door with a tiny fist, emitting a sound of frustration when she realised the room was empty. Nibbling her lower lip the Thracian's brow furrowed in concentration. *Where else might Master Jinn be this early?* With a sudden flash of insight she was off and running again - this time heading towards Master Windu's quarters on the floor above.
Her frantic approach was detected by both Masters, though it was Mace Windu who opened the door and caught the tiny girl as she charged into him. "Master! Master!" she gasped, desperately trying to catch her breath. Her gaze fell beyond the dark folds of Master Windu's robe, towards the centre of the room, where Qui-Gon Jinn had set aside his tea and now stood staring at her. She drew in a deep breath, but was only able to choke out another "Master!"
Mace Windu set his huge hands upon her shoulders, channelling his calming presence into her frantic one. "Sssh, child. Speak softly. Now, what is wrong?" She looked up at him, dark eyes wide with alarm.
However it was Qui-Gon who spoke. "Obi-Wan..."
"What?" Mace barely had time to snap out a question, when Qui-Gon rushed passed him, face white and drawn. Mace watched his friend race down the empty corridor. He hesitated, turning back toward the frightened girl who stood trembling beneath his hands. "Where is Obi- Wan, Padawan?"
"The-the exercise room...Master."
He smiled at her in gentle reassurance, though his eyes were troubled. "Come. We will go together." With a guiding arm around her slight shoulders, Master and Padawan hurried after Qui-Gon.
Chapter II
The pair reached the exercise room just as Qui-Gon disappeared through the doorway. Mace rushed ahead of the Thracian as he felt his friend's sudden spike of alarm. Hastily he pushed through the swinging doors. "*Qui-Gon. No!*" he hissed. When his desperate whisper failed to draw the Jedi back, Windu grabbed his friend's arm. "Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon shot him a '*Don't* - look', and tried to pull free."Let me *go* Mace-"
"*No*" They were starting to attract the attention of the Padawans. Mace cursed softly and dragged his resisting friend aside. "Qui-Gon listen to me." When Qui-Gon turned away Mace shook him hard. "*Listen!*"
Qui-Gon turned back, eyes narrowing in displeasure. "That is a J'kha exercise."
"*Yes*, and if you break his concentration now, you could kill him." Mace's gaze burned into Qui-Gon's - dark eyes willing him to understand and accept the truth of what he was saying.
Qui-Gon turned back to stare at Obi-Wan - who spun gracefully through the air above their heads - twin blades blazing fiercely as they twirled and danced around his body. Abruptly Qui-Gon sagged; glancing away from Obi-Wan for a moment he nodded, eyes bright with anguish.
Mace quietly ushered the other Padawans out of the exercise room and closed the doors; then he moved back to stand beside his friend, whose eyes never left Obi-Wan for an instant. The two Masters maintained a silent vigil as Obi-Wan performed a duelling kata far in excess of either his age or his training. They could still sense the buzz of nervous excitement from the Padawans who lingered in the corridor. Three of the braver ones pressed their faces up against the door's glass panels, peering inside. One went so far as to push the door open a little in order to get a better look.
As the young Padawans watched, Obi-Wan completed the complex kata; performing one last breathtaking spinning leap before landing, somewhat unsteadily, and extinguishing the lightsabers. Obi-Wan turned to face Qui-Gon and Mace and bowed formally. However, as the young man straightened up his eyes suddenly rolled back and without a sound Obi- Wan slid to the floor. Beside him the lightsabers struck the mat with twin dull thuds before rolling away.
"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon was already at his Bond mate's side as Mace knelt to examine the youth.
"Bring him to the healers Qui-Gon." Mace's deep voice broke through Qui-Gon's shock and he stood, carefully lifting Obi-Wan's limp body into his arms. As they strode past the anxious Padawans Windu spared them a brief glance. "Go back to your rooms, all of you!" They scuttled off to their quarters like startled swamp rats.
Chapter III
Mace Windu finally had to resort to bodily pulling Qui-Gon aside in order that Masters Tenesh and Payan might work upon their patient unimpeded. However, Qui-Gon obstinately refused to allow Obi-Wan out of his sight. The Jedi Master stood in the doorway of the adjoining chamber, his face drawn and anxious, watching as the healers tended to his Padawan.
Mace sighed, "Obi-Wan is in good hands Qui-Gon. Please my friend, sit down and rest yourself." Qui-Gon acted as though he had not even heard, and Mace stood, moving to stand beside his friend, his gaze following Qui-Gon's into the room beyond.
Obi-Wan was still unconscious. Tenesh and Payan had diagnosed simple exhaustion as the cause of the young man's sudden collapse, but they had also pointed out signs which implied a worrying level of self neglect. The most significant being a number of untreated minor wounds - some *days* old. Qui-Gon had listened to their comments in silence, but Mace watched the effect they had upon his friend - the lines of grief deepening with every word the healers spoke.
Tenesh and Payan were currently engaged in treating the fresh saber burns scarring Obi-Wan's arms and torso. As Payan stepped aside, Mace caught a glimpse of a cruel slash scoring the youth's collar bone, and he heard Qui-Gon's sudden indrawn breath. Mace moved closer to his friend, as Qui-Gon turned his face away from the sight.
"I should have known...I should have...I-" Qui-Gon broke off, shaking his head in despair.
Mace lay a comforting hand upon Qui-Gon's arm. "Talk to me, my friend."
Qui-Gon sighed, a combination of pain and frustration. "Obi-Wan has been shielding himself from me."
"For how long?" Mace's deep voice reflected his concern.
Qui-Gon's face tightened with distress. "Since...since our escape."
Shocked, Mace moved to stand before his friend. "You haven't sensed anything from him? Nothing *at all*?"
In response Qui-Gon closed his eyes and clenched his fists, momentarily unable to speak. When he reopened them their dark blue depths were bright with unshed tears. Qui-Gon struggled to speak through his grief. "I-I can sense where he is. I know when he leaves our quarters. He...he has moved back into his old room." *That* got another shocked look. Qui-Gon shrugged. "He said he needed time to think...time alone..."
"Do you think that was wise?"
Qui-Gon answered the unspoken question. "Obi-Wan wouldn't purposely harm himself, Mace. I *would* know if he intended that. If...if I thought for a moment that he might..." He stopped, unable to go on, but Mace understood and berated himself for his own thoughtlessness *Of course Qui-Gon would never have let Obi-Wan out of his sight if he'd believed the boy would try to hurt himself*
"Has he spoken at all about what happened?"
"No...I-I hoped..." Qui-Gon's despair was almost palpable. "I didn't want to push him Mace. I hoped in time he would come to me..." The Jedi's voice trailed off.
"Perhaps he might find it easier to speak with another?" Mace suggested.
Qui-Gon shook his head decisively. "No, Obi-Wan wouldn't talk to anyone else."
There was no arrogance in Qui-Gon's tone, simply the knowledge of a Master who knew his Padawan...his *Bond mate*...better than any other living creature. Mace accepted the truth of the statement without question. Obi-Wan had always been a self-contained individual; companionable, but rarely sharing his innermost thoughts with anyone...except perhaps Qui-Gon. Though this time...
Mace sighed heavily. "He has spoken with another."
"What?!" Qui-Gon's voice reflected both his surprise and his confusion. His dark blue eyes became suffused with hurt.
"Not...not concerning what has happened to him," - Mace looked increasingly unhappy - "though I feel it is directly linked to it." Still utterly bewildered, Qui-Gon looked to his friend for an explanation; increasingly worried by Mace's apparent reluctance to tell him. Mace ran a hand over his face. "I...That's what I wanted to discuss with you this morning. She didn't know how to speak of it directly with you."
"She?"
"Master Linnae"
Qui-Gon frowned. Why would his Padawan choose to talk to a strange Jedi Master? An elderly Thracian who, to the best of his knowledge, had only ever visited Coruscant on three previous occasions, none of which had been during Obi-Wan's lifetime.
Mace continued. "I know Linnae quite well. We...we have met on several occasions - diplomatic functions and the like. She was aware of my friendship with you and sought my advice. Normally she would never have broken a confidence, but she didn't feel that Obi-Wan was..." Mace hesitated as he sought for a 'diplomatic' answer, "quite himself," he eventually offered. "She felt that you had a right to know. I...I agree."
"*What*, Mace?!" Qui-Gon made no attempt to hide the desperate concern in his voice.
"Obi-Wan wanted..." Mace took a deep breath, and the rest of the words flowed forth in a rush. "He had heard that Linnae had been Bonded. He wanted to know if it was possible to break a Bond between Jedi - *Qui-Gon!*" Mace cried out in alarm as Qui-Gon suddenly staggered, his face pale - eyes wide in shock. Anxiously Mace caught his friend's arm, falling back on a childhood diminutive."Qui? Qui?" When Qui-Gon didn't answer, Mace guided them both back towards the chairs against the far wall.
Qui-Gon sat down blindly, dark blue eyes almost black with anguish. "W-why...?" The Jedi's voice was hoarse with pain.
Mace sank down into the seat beside his friend, suddenly feeling older than his years. "I have no idea Qui, I'm sorry. He wouldn't tell her. He...he just wanted to know if it was possible."
"What did she tell him?"
"The truth. That it could be done if both parties agreed to it."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes.
Hating himself for asking, but knowing he had to, Mace spoke gently. "Have you...? I mean perhaps you should consider...?" He broke off when Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open.
His voice rough with suppressed emotion, Qui-Gon's eyes glittered, "*I won't give him up Mace. *Never* ask me to.*"
If Mace was surprised by the anger in Qui-Gon's tone he didn't show it. "And if it's best for the boy...?"
The wildness in Qui-Gon's eyes faded to a confused sadness. "I...I don't believe that..." He looked at Mace despairingly, "Do you?"
Mace shook his head, sighing. "No...No I don't." He leaned toward Qui- Gon, his own eyes troubled, "But this can't go on Qui."
Before Qui-Gon could answer, Tenesh appeared. Both Jedi stood to face the healer. "Well he's awake," Tenesh's long face creased into a frown, "and insisting he be allowed to return to his quarters." The healer's tone said exactly what he thought of *that* idea.
"May I see him?" Qui-Gon made his request respectfully, but he was already trying to edge around the healer in order to enter the room.
Smiling kindly, a little of the weariness fading from his face, Tenesh nodded. "Just for a moment. The boy needs to rest."
Qui-Gon quickly expressed his gratitude and entered; Payan nodded to him briefly as he swept past, finally leaving Qui-Gon alone with his Padawan.
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